


Atom to Atom

by phalangine



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Hotel Sex, M/M, john and chas are the reason we can't trust hotel comforters thank you for your time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: How long has it been? Almost twenty years since they met? And John decides he can’t stay away one more night?





	Atom to Atom

**Author's Note:**

> 2019 is the year i stop just sitting on WIPs and start finishing them

They’re in a disgusting motel in a backwoods town somewhere in Nebraska, resting up between a fight with a collection of angry spirits and the trip back to Georgia. Chas still aches from getting thrown across a warehouse earlier, hasn’t showered in two days, and hasn’t slept through the night in a week, but he can’t shower or sleep because John decided tonight’s the time to shake things up.

How long has it been? Almost twenty years since they met? And John decides he can’t stay away one more night?

At least he’s consistent about this. John’s always been the type to rip the bandage off. When and where don’t matter; it’s time to take it off, so off it’s coming.

Chas isn’t objecting, though. Not when he’s wanted John for so long he doesn’t remember how to want anyone else.

John is somehow grimier than Chas is. Even in the low light from the dying motel lamp, Chas can see the vertical smudges of pitch on John’s face from the physical part of the spell. He touches the pad of his thumb to one and feels John go still in his lap, eyes falling half-shut as he sways closer. 

It isn’t their first kiss, but it’s the first one that doesn’t get brushed aside. John doesn’t wink at him like it’s a joke when he pulls back. There’s no spell or spirit to blame it on or distract them. No girlfriend of boyfriend to hide behind.

There’s just Chas pulling John back in for another and John grabbing fistfuls of Chas’ shirt as he does.

They don’t kiss softly. John can’t seem to choose between kissing Chas like he can make up for years of absence if he just kisses hard enough and pulling away to use his teeth on Chas’ lower lip.

It feels like he’s trying to get as much as he can as fast as he can, and Chas isn’t about to discourage him. He knows the fears John has; they’re the same ones Chas has.

But John’s are unfounded.

There are years of Chas’ life he’s given to John, and he’s only going to keep giving.

Chas has been John’s since the day they met.

John just hasn’t figured that out yet. 

Rather than try to say so, Chas waits for John to break away to catch his breath, then fits his hands to John’s hips and asks, “Are we really doing this? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, John. If you’re doing this just to wind me up, you’re making your own dinner.”

The sound John makes is almost a laugh. “That’s up to you, mate. You know me. I’d shag just about anyone.”

With fresh snake bites, the myth is you’re supposed to suck out the venom. Chas doesn’t know what to do when the venom’s been sitting in a man’s system for decades, covering the good in him in sickness and giving it its own venom.

The only problem Chas has ever had with John’s promiscuity is how reckless he can be. How easily John uses pleasure to hurt himself.

“I’m just about anyone, right?” Chas asks, hoping to shift them away from danger. He’s hard, John’s hard, and Chas’ palms are sweaty with the possibilities.

“You’re more than that,” John says, ignoring Chas’ efforts and his own. “There isn’t a man in the world I’d rather have with me than you. You’re the only one who always comes back. Don’t think I don’t know it.”

In a good world, Chas could use this to tell John how much their friendship means. He could tell John he doesn’t mind John’s rough edges. He could tell John that he’ll always be here, always come back to him, and kiss him softly, because it’s long overdue that someone was gentle with him.

But, as John would be first to tell him, this isn’t a good world.

“I know where I want to be,” Chas says instead.

He wants to say more, but it’s all he can make his mouth say.

From the way John purrs, “Oh you do, do you?” Chas knows he said enough.

John shifts closer, moving his hips as he does. His hands shake like he’s cold as he flattens them against Chas’ chest, but his skin is warm when Chas’ hands slide under his shirt.

Chas rubs his thumb over the start of the trail of hair below John’s navel and smiles at the soft sound John makes.

“Good?”

John nods, bumping their heads together as he does.

Chas keeps moving his hands, taking his time now that he can finally learn what all the familiar dips and planes and ridges of John’s body feel like. They’re finally soft enough not to make Chas worry; John hasn’t learned to care for himself any better than he cares about himself.

Luring John into regular meals wasn’t Chas’ endgame in learning how to cook, but he isn’t complaining.

Nosing at John’s stubbled cheek, Chas resolves to find a way to get John to sleep more regularly.

That’s a thought for a different time, though, so Chas quickly distracts himself by brushing over one of John’s nipples.

John’s breath catches, and Chas has to kiss him.

The kiss has turned into a second and a third when Chas pinches John’s nipple, and John makes a noise Chas has never heard before.

“You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last much longer,” John warns.

“That good?” Chas asks, not entirely buying it.

John gives him a flat look, which is only ruined a little by the way he’s flushed and breathing hard. “It is when you’re the one doing it. Happy now?”

He doesn’t give Chas any time to work through that, let alone respond. He quickly moves onto tugging at Chas’ shirt, and once Chas has helped him get it off, he gets his fingers on Chas’ fly.

It’s just been Chas and his hands since Renee left him. He hasn’t had it in him to go out and find a one night stand on his own, and going with John is a recipe for disappointment. Not that Chas could blame them for getting caught up in John.

Lifting his hips for John to pull his jeans down, Chas can’t help but think he should have at least tried.

John tosses Chas’ pants somewhere toward the foot of the bed. Chas would object, but he’s more interested in watching John unbutton his shirt and shrug out of it. Then he’s lifting his undershirt, then unbuttoning his pants, and Chas remembers he doesn’t have to keep his hands to himself.

John smells like sweat and dirt and something earthy Chas can’t name but recognizes from spells John has cast before. It’s not a great smell, but the way John clutches at Chas’ shoulders when Chas kisses him low on his belly makes up for it.

John lets himself be pushed onto his back, and Chas knows he’s going to think about that every time he comes for the next year.

Unlike Chas, whose boxers John left on, John shimmies out of everything at once.

Seeing him naked makes the blood pound harder in Chas’ ears. John shouldn’t be so human; he shouldn’t have a soft stomach and scars from things as ordinary as slicing his shin on a rock. He shouldn’t be a man like any other, with bones that knit themselves back together slowly, his organs gone for good when they fail.

He’s too alive to be mortal, too much a fixture in Chas’ life not to be unending.

There’s a flush to his face as he looks up at Chas like he’s not sure this is real either.

Chas leans in to kiss him, and John reaches up to guide him in.

The grip on Chas’ head changes after Chas raises a hand to John’s leg, just below John’s hip, rubbing his thumb over the crease in John’s thigh. John doesn’t push on him, exactly, but Chas knows a downward cue when he gets one.

John’s voice chokes on Chas’ name when Chas licks the tip of his cock. His quick breath in becomes a moan when Chas swallows him down.

John isn’t good at keeping quiet, but Chas isn’t about to tell him to try harder when half of what John’s saying is Chas’ name.

It’s been so long since Chas was with someone like this, it’s hard not to reach down and touch himself, but John is holding onto Chas like he’s afraid Chas will stop, and as badly as Chas wants to touch himself, he needs John to feel him holding onto John even more.

He knows when John gets close. He has plenty of time to pull off and finish John by hand. He has plenty of time to spit instead of swallow. But he doesn’t do either. He gently works John through it with one hand as he swallows.

“I can’t believe you did that,” John tells him when Chas pulls away. He’s breathing hard and lying flat on his back with his legs spread wide. “You really did that.”

Chas nods. John seems to like it, but uncertainty is creeping in, whispering that he went too far.

Something knocks against Chas’ arm- John’s hand.

“Give me one minute, mate,” John says, mouth quirking into one of his softer grins. “Just gotta catch my breath, right? Then you’ll be the one the neighbors complain about. Mark my words.”

Chas doesn’t fight John on that, but he knows as John tugs at him to lie down next to him that it’s going to be more than a minute. That’s fine, though. He’s waited years. He wait another night.

Before he stretches out, Chas reaches over to the other bed and tugs on the comforter until it comes free, lies down by John, then throws the comforter over them.

John shifts onto his side, then wriggles until his back is pressed to Chas’ chest. Putting an arm around him feels right, and John lets out a happy sigh, sinking fast into sleep.

Chas isn’t so fortunate. He’s still hard, and holding John is making his heart beat too fast.

He could always duck into the bathroom, though, and he probably will after John’s fallen asleep and won’t be bothered by Chas getting up.

For now, he can bear with the ache of two heartbeats. There’s a third under his palm, beating steadily, muffled by John’s ribs. John’s body shifts as he breathes, growing and shrinking in Chas’ hold, and Chas fights the urge to squeeze him closer, to feel him splutter and curse and reassure Chas that he’s the right John. That this quiet night and the soft puffs of air that skim the arm Chas has under John’s neck are just another facet of John, not a symptom of a different man, one who loves Chas but doesn’t have to try to be a good man even though he doesn’t know how.

There won’t be any way to be sure until the morning, but something about the pain that blooms in Chas’ shin from John’s heel is enough to let him relax.


End file.
